


Re-turn, to me

by TheNextPage



Series: Declarations: Dasha re-imagined [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on last night, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Rating May Change, Snapshot Story, implied death of a minor character, mentioned Carol, this entire fic takes place in one weekend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-28 21:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20785259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNextPage/pseuds/TheNextPage
Summary: “Why did you stop emailing me?”“...because it wasn’t enough.”A brief, chance meeting brings up old memories for Daryl and Sasha.





	1. Re-union

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the premise of 'Last Night'.
> 
> And it's sort of a gift for @niklovr, but also just a gift for anyone who finds themselves here.  
The story is complete (with an epilogue!) so I'll post one chapter a day for the next three days.

Daryl:

“Why did you stop emailing me?”

“...because it wasn’t enough.”

He hadn’t meant to blurt out that question upon seeing Sasha in the store. He rarely shopped here, Carol did most of the grocery shopping. But he had been headed home and wanted to pick up some steaks and wine for an easy weekend dinner. Everyone loved his steaks, and the weather was finally steadily warm – it would be a treat to grill and relax after Carol returned from her business trip the next day.

But then he had seen _her_ reaching over the counter to receive her fillet from the butcher like he was about to order, and the only words his mouth would form, the only sense his brain could string together, were the words his aching heart still questioned.

She looked more gorgeous than he remembered. Her hair was untied – she must have just come off a shift. Her athletic curves were highlighted in her skinny black jeans and white collared boyfriend-shirt which revealed snatches of her toned tummy. She wore plain white sneakers with a cross-body kente-cloth hobo bag she had slung around her which further confirmed she had decided to walk to the store.

He blinked and looked away, partly surprised and partly annoyed that his brain had retained all these little gems of information about her. She shifted slightly, as if caught between leaving or staying to hear him out.

“Have a cup of coffee with me.” His words bounced back off the floor, before he looked up to meet her uncertain gaze. “There’s a cafe...”

“I know it.” She didn’t let him finish. _They had discovered it together_.

“Coffee then?”

Her face didn’t smile, her mouth didn’t move, but her eyes told him yes.

Sasha:

Sasha had had a great day. They had saved a family and most of their possessions from their faulty wiring turned electrical fire, put out a blaze that could have engulfed an entire residential complex and she had time to give a talk at a local all-girls high school where some of the students had fangirled and fawned over her afterwards, admiring the work she did and hinting at following in her footsteps. She felt like a hero. She had decided to come to the store after realising there was nothing ‘hero-worthy’ in her fridge. And so she found herself asking for fillet, after having picked up asparagus and some mushrooms. She would never own to it if asked, but the presence on her right had electrified the air before she even turned to be faced with Daryl. 

“Why did you stop emailing me?”

“...because it wasn’t enough,” she replied, taking a moment to shore up her strength and speak this truth to this man..._this man_.

He looked down and away from her answer. She stood, looking back at him.

He hadn’t changed. At least, not in a way that she disliked. He was still lean, athletic with a rugged air to him. His hair was still a little scruffy, casually unkempt without revealing the work that went into such a look. His eyes were still bright, but that sadness just around his eyes still lingered. His suit was bespoke, following his long lines and lithe build. It was misleading though. It didn’t hint at the motorcycle-aficionado and the down-and-dirty side of this character.

She shifted slightly, unsure whether to leave or wait on him to say something else. She had made up her mind to ask how work was going when he breathed, “Have a cup of coffee with me.”

He hated coffee. Never drank it. But he had indulged her by going to coffee shop after coffee shop, sitting and watching her drink it, revelling in whatever aromatic caffeine-high she derived from these excursions. _He would order sorbet in summer or apple+pear crumble in winter and feed her most of it, just to see her giggle and laugh like she hadn’t lost so much too young: like he could somehow fill all those empty spots by pouring all of himself into her; like he was enough_.

“There’s a cafe...” he continued. She eyed him curiously. He had mentioned it in passing one day but the cafe soon became a focal point of their meetings, before they were ‘them’. She had continued going, even _after…_

“I know it.” It had been months before she could walk in and not be assailed by memories of him, of them, laughing and loving and living. A part of her had secretly hoped that one day she might bump into him there. She had never considered what it would be like if he was there with Carol though... Thankfully, she had never found out. But now here he was, asking her to go back there. With him.

“Coffee then?”

She looked at him, their eyes meeting and holding for a moment. Her face remained an impassive mask, but she couldn’t entirely erase the subtle joy his invitation produced in her. By his slight smile – quickly suppressed – he had seen it too.

***

Walking into Baobab, they gravitated without thought to their preferred seats: the booth with the comfortable wingback chair. The high sides and curved back wrapped each pair as if in their own little bubble.

The waitress walked over, with two menus in hand but stuttered in her step before reaching the table. She caught Sasha’s eye, who curtly shook her head at her.

A tight smile flashed across her face, before she stepped up and greeted them both.

“Sasha, Daryl, nice to have you with us again. What can I get you? Or the usual?”

Dineka was her name. She had been their waitress for the years they came here together, and for the months and seasons Sasha came alone. And for the odd stops Daryl would make on his own. Dineka knew his routine well, although it had taken her a while to crack it. He came in once a month, on Sunday’s a little after 11am. And he would walk straight to the counter, collect his sorbet or apple crumble and linger only for as long as it took for them to parcel it up and give it to him. It was in those moments that he would look at where Sasha would have left her bag and scarf or sunglasses, before meandering between the bookshelves for new short stories she hadn’t read yet. And he stopped in during the summer, when forest fires were a problem that would keep Sasha busy even on her days off. He would order sorbet enough for the whole Firehouse but would come up with sheepish reasons for remaining an anonymous sponsor. Dineka had never told Sasha what she knew, but maybe she wouldn’t have to, if this coffee-date was anything to go by.

“I uh...” Daryl started mincing his words again, mumbling as if unsure and not willing to impose.

“We’ll have the usual. Do you have that lemon and mint sorbet?” Sasha asked, before turning to Daryl, “They started serving it in rare bursts. It’s really good! You’ll love it.”

He smiled and nodded in acquiescence. _He had commissioned the store to stock it, but only for her_. He had tasted some whilst out of town, and had instantly known she would love it. He had negotiated the distribution and pricing. And here she was, telling him how much she loved something he had introduced, just for her.

“How have you been? How’s work going?” Sasha decided to start with the pleasantries.

“Fine. Fine. It’s all fine.” He shrugged. That wasn’t what he wanted to talk to her about.

“And Carol?” Sasha exhaled the name, failing to retain his gaze, instead choosing to investigate the tabletop.

“She’s fine. Much better now.”

Sasha’s hands wrung the serviette mercilessly. Carol was living her life. _Because she needed him._ Demonstrably and more tragically than she had. So Sasha had to give him up. She hadn’t made peace with that. But she had packed it up and pushed it way down and far away from her daily waking life.

“How are you?” He asked, his hands mimicking hers, ravaging the serviette before him. “And not like... the boring stuff. How are you?”

Sasha stopped worrying the serviette and looked at him. Taking a deep breath, she answered, “I miss you. Some days, more than others. And on really good days, I can get through without wondering why you didn’t fight harder for me and warring with myself for still being in lo... still caring so deeply for you. I have crammed activity into my life. Because any moment I’m giving a talk or training with colleagues, is a moment my brain has to focus on something other than how I would share this with you.” She stopped and sighed. “It’s been a year and I’m still not over you. I think I realised last week that I never will be. And I’m okay with that. Now here you are.”

He looked at her, trying to will his body from reaching across the table and wiping the tears from her face as they formed at the corners of her eyes and overflowed silently.

“I’ll look after you. I always will.” Daryl’s hands were flat on the table, fingers extended towards hers.

“I don’t need a saviour. I wanted a partner.” Sasha chuckled mirthlessly. “And that’s the problem right, I wasn’t helpless enough without you. We were equals... Urgh... I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” She scrubbed her hands over her face, willing her wanting him to subside. “I think this was a mistake.” She looked around the cafe, at all the normality and unawares public milling around. “I should go.” Sasha moved to pick up her bag.

“Please don’t!” Daryl barely raised his voice, but his instinctive reach across to land his hand on her arm was enough to electrify them both. “I... I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry. I know...” he exhaled loudly, regaining his composure.

He scratched his nape absently, reaching for his phone and pulling it out. _He had an incoming call._

“Hey Carol, yeah I’m done for the day.” His eyes were downcast, trying to centre himself after that intense moment.

“Oh, yeah. I bumped into a friend at the store.” He looked up at Sasha, speaking to her directly. ”Yeah, pure serendipity. We’re gonna have dinner and hit a bunch of bars. I won’t make it home tonight. So I’ll see you tomorrow when you get back.”

He ended the call on friendly and polite terms, no declarations of love or anything beyond platonic salutations.

Dineka arrived back with a bowl of lemon and mint sorbet, and two glasses of water. She placed them on the table and smiled at Sasha. “Hero’s special today. Heard you had a good one out there! On the house.”

Sasha had long-since learned not to argue – she was never allowed to pay when they came up with whatever special they had that day. She managed a small smile, grateful for the break from this moment with Daryl.

“Stay with me tonight.” He asked, even though it came out like a flat statement. He drew the bowl towards him and had a spoonful, before offering her one without thought.

She leant forward and savoured the chill of the cold spoon before the refreshing hit of lemon and mint on her tongue.

She swallowed her mouthful before looking at him, smiling and nodding her head. “Ok. Tonight.”

***

“Do you still see Kwame?” Daryl asked as they headed down the street to her house. They had finished shopping, left his car and were walking back to her place.

“Yeah. Do you?” Sasha asked, giving up on fighting how familiar and comfortable it was for this walk, this conversation to be happening.

“Not often. We catch up for a beer now and then.

He ever mention how he beat my ass after... everything with us?” Daryl smirked, turning to catch Sasha as she burst out giggling.

“He did what?” She tried to cover her mouth to stop the laughter, but it tumbled out of her anyway. “Why would he beat you? And he’s such a chilled soul, I can’t see him just wiling out at you!”

Daryl chuckled, brushing his thumb under his lip. Smiling, he recounted the story to Sasha: We went to the same gym, generally boxing and some amateur MMA. So I’m there the one night, trying to blow off some steam. He walks in, all chilled and calm. He sees me and just makes a straight shot for me. Dumps his gear and asks if I can spar with him for a bit.

Now, you know Kwame. He and I are not in the same league! He’s easily all muscle and tall like a brick wall. Shoot... Anyway, so I say yeah, why not. He gets his hands wrapped up and steps into the ring with me.

Sass, he played the long game with me. Said we’d go 3 rounds, but he let me get real cocky and confident. I say to him, nah, let’s make it 5. So he gave me the first two – mind, we’re still just sparring right! So I’m landing easy punches and easy kicks, trying some fancy shit that doesn’t stick but looks hella impressive. I was feeling myself.

Round 4 and 5, he whopped my ass. He lay me out. I mean, it’s like he stopped playing and just came for me. Round 4 I was a little caught unawares but by Round 5 when he opened with a roundhouse kick to my face then a flurry of shots to my midsection and a flying hook to the face, I was out.

He fractured my ribs. I was like... tenderised steak. I imagined if steak was sentient, it would have felt like the way I did after Kwame had finished with me.”

Sasha had stopped smiling at that stage, hand covering her mouth in abject horror. She eyed him closely, as if she could pinpoint the damage inflicted on him.

“I’m fine now. Don’t worry.” Daryl continued. “So I finally come to and there’s a bunch of people all over the place. Kwame is holding a bottle of water and a towel for me. He helps me up, real gently then walks me over to the Medic station. As I’m getting all wrapped up, he’s like ‘Listen, I took no particular joy in that. But what you did was fucked up. Tyreese would’ve done the same thing, and even if he wouldn’t’a... she didn’t deserve...’ then he just looked away ‘cause there was nothing else to say.”

“Were you ok?” Her concern was genuine, even though he walked beside her now, healthy and fit and ok.

He laughed without warmth. “I had to take two aspirin and slept for a full day. Carol asked if I’d been mugged. I told her it got heated at gym.

He loves you ‘ya know. Not, romantically. But in his own way. He didn’t enjoy it but he felt it had to be done.”

“Didn’t change anything though. And he never told me about it so I can’t see how it was for me. And Tyreese wouldn’t have resorted to violence. That wasn’t his way.” She lapsed into silence. “I’ll have to ask him about that. What he was thinking...trying to achieve.”

“Ask him about it I guess. But I got it then. We’re cool. Hell, we were cool the day of. He drove me home and dropped off more aspirin for me the next day. It was like he wanted to have a conversation with me but didn’t want to use words. There’s no bad blood or anything between us.”

“Why would you tell me about that? What am I meant to do with all that?” Sasha was reaching inside the side compartment of her bag to find her key. They had arrived at her door.

“I wanted you to know that even though he laid me out for a full day and a week’s worth of recovery, that wasn’t the worst I felt. One: you are loved. By me and so many others. Two: I can’t imagine how much I hurt you but I didn’t just coast through this thing.”

“Well I hope you and Kwame are cool; he invited me to a ForTheFuckOfIt party later. You cool to go?” Sasha headed right through the archway down the hallway, past the dining room and into the kitchen.

Daryl laughed. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

***

Daryl was gently massaging olive oil, salt and pepper into the fillet as Sasha prepared the asparagus, mushroom and kachumbari to accompany the steak they would be having. Sasha has talked him out of individual steaks as Kwame was grilling, and it would be a crime to not feast once there.

“I was gonna make steak for myself ya know. That’s why I was at the store picking up the ingredients.” Sasha washed her hands and pulled out a wooden chopping board to stand beside Daryl as she started finely slicing the cabbage and tomatoes.

“I remember the first time I made this for you. I was so excited to have you for a whole evening, without everyone around. But I worried I would mess up somehow, and it wouldn’t be as good as everyone had been hyping it was.

Drinking beer with you and talking...damnit.

I remember calling Rick and saying a million things and nothin’ at the same time.” Daryl was warmed at the memory of it.

“I liked spending time with you too that night. Dinner was amazing. I always felt shy eating around others. But after that first mouthful, I was in heaven. I think I inhaled my steak in minutes, barely even stopping to talk to you.” She smiled at the memory.

“Why did you stop emailing me?” Daryl cut the ease of the moment with a pointed question.

“Because it wasn’t enough.”

“Sasha I... Those emails were everything to me.”

“I know. For me too.

How sad was that? I mean... Daryl. This was our home. We bought this table together. Before we even chopped a single vegetable on it, you had me flat on my back on it. Do you remember that? Because I do. And suddenly... all I have are emails. Words on a screen, from you, sitting in someone else’s house, creating memories that should have been mine.

I didn’t want to hate you. _Or her_. But I couldn’t be okay with only emails. I wanted everything... or nothing.”

“She needed me. We talked about this.” Daryl could feel his frustration flare up. How could she not accept that Carol was at the absolute brink and needed him? They had discussed this, repeatedly. She made it seem like it was easy for him to leave. But it was never going to be permanent nor that he didn’t want to stay. He chalked up her not understanding as a wilful decision on her part not to.

“Daryl, I don’t want to fight with you. So let’s not. Okay?” Sasha shrugged and continued chopping vegetables. The cabbage was vibrant and green and would be lightly sautéed before cooling and going into the bowl. She was now thinly slicing the red onions.

“First Ed, then Sophia. Was I meant to leave her to spiral into her depression and finally commit suicide? Would that have been better?” He couldn’t leave this alone. And her clamming up didn’t help either.

Sasha lay the knife down on the chopping board and pushed everything away from her to the middle of the table. She wanted to give herself room, but also not tempt herself to grab things and fling them. She turned to face him and re-iterated the same message she kept repeating from months 3-5.

“Her abusive husband left her no choice but to pull the plug after landing up in a permanent vegetative state in hospital after wrapping his car round a pole. Her daughter survived the crash and was making a steady recovery before collapsing one day and slipping away suddenly.

I cannot imagine that kind of heartache. I truly can’t. I am sorry for everything she lost. I am. I was then, and I am now. I get why you and Rick worried. She said troubling things and had all but lost her reason to live. You were the only constant from her life before she lost everything. I get why it made sense that you would be the one to pull her back.

But Daryl, we had a life here. Not complete, not perfect. But we had a life here.

We had our own heartaches. Tyreese... Merle... we were all part of the walking wounded. But you still left. You saw her suffering and you and Rick thought her pain so great, that I could do without you. And you left. You left me. _Us_.

And so I learned to get along without you, because I was without you. So I stopped writing because writing to you gave me a false sense of still having you when I really didn’t. It wasn’t enough Daryl. I wanted you here, with me. In our home, making memories _with me_. But you weren’t. And I had to find a way to live without you. So I did.”

She didn’t cry anymore when she recounted this tale. Not that there weren’t tears enough – there were plenty – but they didn’t bring him back. They didn’t ease her alone. They just reinforced to her how they weren’t counted as valuable or moving enough... as Carol’s. Shaking her head to rid the thoughts, she turned back to her vegetables.

“I took it for granted you’d just wait. She didn’t have time.

I... I always just took it for granted you would wait.

Shush... this isn’t forever. I swear it’s not. Please tell me you’ll wait.”

Daryl hadn’t thought to have to explain himself so fully. But maybe it had been a reckless oversight on his part not to. Hubris to think she could shoulder this sacrifice and still think him worth the effort.

“Fillet looks good. Ready to get that on the grill?” Her voice was light and hopeful. The look in her eyes relayed nothing. But he knew her - knew she wasn’t one to make empty promises merely to please.

“Yeah, it’s just about ready.” Daryl couldn’t mask the defeat in his voice.

“I can’t promise you I’ll wait. I can’t promise you forever. But I can give you tonight. No hiding. No pulled-punches. Everything, tonight.”

“I’ll take it.” He leant forward to kiss her cheek as he walked towards the patio with the fillet in the pan. It felt right: comfortable, natural. It felt like home.

***

They walked into Kwame’s loft a little after 10pm. Daryl held a 12pack of Amstel and two bottles of sparkling wine as Sasha ended the Uber trip on her phone.

“Yo Daryl. Good to see you. Sash texted to let me know you were coming through.

Should I be hopeful or...” Kwame clasped arms and met Daryl in a brief embrace before they parted, smiling at one another in the buzz and flow of the room. The beer and sparkling wine had been handed over and were sitting in chillers in the closest cooler-boxes to the entrance, where Kwame had come upon them.

“I bumped into Sass in the store. We got chatting... we’ve only got tonight.” Daryl conceded with a smile.

“Baby girl! How are you doing?” Kwame held out his arms to embrace Sasha who had walked to stand beside Daryl after greeting a few people at the door.

“Don’t ‘Baby-Girl’ me! You have some explaining to do!” Sasha poked Kwame once in the chest with her finger, her best attempt at a stern expression on her face.

“What’d I do?” Kwame raised a questioning eyebrow, his eyes-wide as saucers as he placed his large hands on her shoulders, massaging them to ease her tension.

“You promised you’d make that vodka watermelon I love. I see no watermelon. I see no vodka. I feel both cheated and lied to.” Sasha knocked his shoulder with a light punch, breaking out into a smile.

“Outside Sash. Now gimme my hug!” Kwame smiled, holding her tightly.

Kwame had been Tyreese’s friend. They had both volunteered at the same community centre and were taking swimming lessons when they weren’t managing several boutique funds and trusts. They worked at opposing hedge-fund firms but they managed to forge a friendship outside of their corporate roles.

Leading Daryl and Sasha to the back porch, Kwame missed Daryl pull up to Sasha’s ear to whisper, “Why didn’t you ask him?”

“First rule of fight club, Daryl... you don’t talk about fight club.” Her lips were irresistibly close to his ear. The proximity sparked his senses and electrified the air around them.

“Dance with me,” Daryl extended his hand for her to hold. “Please.”

She smiled as she took his hand and allowed him to draw her to his body, heading towards the back porch where fairy lights illuminated the expansive yard. People mingled and congregated, some in small clusters as they talked shop, others swaying to the music, whilst others still, met new friends or established new connections.

Daryl knew they would eventually mingle and get lost in conversation with everyone, great barbeque and plentiful drinks...but for now, he wanted to hold Sasha close to him and dance.

***

“Oh my gosh, try the ribs!” Daryl waved a sticky rib towards Sasha who was enjoying a plateful of salad while she chatted to Neeta. “Just open your mouth,” Daryl was insistent she enjoy what he was so clearly floored by.

Rolling her eyes playfully, she swallowed her mouthful and turned to him, mouth partly open. He licked his lips as the rib finally met Sasha’s lips. Her delicate bite caught a portion of the sticky morsel. Daryl took the remaining piece and wolfed it down.

“Good right?! This reminds me of that recipe Tyreese had – with the cider and honey.” Daryl licked his fingers with reckless abandon and picked up another one to tease Sasha with. “How’d you come to a cook-out and eat salad is beyond me!” Daryl commented, brushing her awaiting lips with the thick caramel glaze as she took another bite.

“How you eat dinner and still can eat more is beyond me!” She countered, rolling her eyes.

As Sasha enjoyed the rich, sticky meat – the pork effortlessly coming off the bone – she loaded a fork with some lettuce, diced cucumber and tomato and angled it towards Daryl’s mouth. He enjoyed vegetables, but he enjoyed them most when he was being distracted by Sasha to eat them.

“I’m getting you some lamb chops. Did you have any? So good!” Daryl smiled happily, glaze smeared across his cheek as he turned back to the grill to load up his plate with more meat.

“He’s a real carnivore your one, huh?!” Neeta quipped, picking at her Cobb salad. “You look real happy when he’s around.”

Sasha enjoyed another mouthful, looking towards where Daryl stood talking with Kwame and Malik. He fit – work-jacket left at home, shirt-buttons slightly undone and his sleeves rolled up; no matter the crowd he was in, he always managed to fit.

“I am happy.” Sasha added as an after-thought.

“Sass, open up. I got some lamb chops and pork things. Malik told me what they were but... they taste hella good. Open your mouth!”

“Daryl,” Sasha’s slight grin told him to pay attention, “One: you realise I am both eating and having a conversation. You can’t keep trying to feed me off your plate. This salad has chicken and bacon and blue-cheese dressing and croutons and spring onions. This salad is life really!” She smiled up at him, once more pulled from her conversation because of his well-meaning attempts to feed her.

“I can’t help it. I wanna take care of you. And a salad at a cook-out is like staying in and watching the fireworks on TV during New Years’. That’s one way of doing it but...” he shrugged. “One more bite, for me, please.”

The lamb chops melted in her mouth: juicy, perfectly cooked and delicately seasoned. Sasha didn’t realise she was gently moaning in delight until her eyes caught Neeta and Daryl staring at her in wide-eyed wonder.

“That good huh? Maybe I need to get me some too...” Neeta got up and walked over to the grill to help herself.

***

It was already starting to get light out by the time they said their goodbyes and left Kwame’s loft heading back to Sasha’s. Daryl had to pick up his groceries and drive back to his place before Carol got home to an empty house.

“We can get a cab.” Sasha looked up and down the still sleepy-street, wondering if she could maybe get an Uber quicker.

“Nah, let’s walk.” Daryl’s drawl was strong as he kept his eyes on Sasha, cutting away back to the street when she turned to him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.” His smile was wistful, full of so much he wasn’t articulating.

“It’s been a long night. But a good one.” Sasha felt sleepy, but so happy. She hadn’t felt that in too long.

“Don’t say goodbye yet...” Daryl took her fingers in his, loosely locking them in a lazy hand-hold.

“I’m not saying goodbye.” Sasha started protesting.

“Yeah you are. We’ll have to soon enough. Not yet. For me okay. Just...not yet.”

They walked on for a while in easy silence, their hands holding on to each other; tracing fingers, remembering skin, stimulating nerves. He still wasn’t much for physical affection, but he always relished contact with her. There was safety and comfort in her touch.

Turning the last corner onto her block, they both surreptitiously slowed. Upon reaching the steps to her door, Sasha stopped and turned to face him.

“We can’t be holding hands when...” she inclined her head towards the door.

“Why not?” He asked, looking past her, puzzled. Then he suddenly thought perhaps someone else might have keys and be in. But he hadn’t seen evidence of another man the night before, and she hadn’t mentioned it either.

“Because if we’re touching when we walk in... you won’t leave. I won’t let you.” She finished in a small voice.

“I wouldn’t want to.”

_And for one hot second, their eyes met and something reckless was contemplated. _

“I’ll go get your things.” Sasha found her voice, and trotted up the stairs and unlocked the door, disappearing within.

They had put all his groceries in one bag in her large fridge to make it easier to spot his few goodies. She picked up the large brown bag now and looked around to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything else.

She considered the litchis and rooibos she wanted to give him, and wondered if it would be presumptuous to slip them into the bag. She decided it would be – she would be infiltrating his new space with Carol with remnants of herself, and that wasn’t how she conducted herself. So she placed his grocery bag down on the corner, switched on the kettle and walked back to the front door, pleased to find him still standing there, having only moved to the top step whilst waiting for her.

“Come in,” she smiled, reaching out to him before remembering herself, and putting her hand down.

Daryl walked in and reached for her, drawing her to him in a warm embrace. He held her in the foyer, slowing wrapping his arms around her to lead her in a quiet silent dance.

A smile blossomed across his face as he felt her rest her arms around his shoulders and laid her head against his cheek. She swayed with him, unhurried and unbothered by the world outside the door.

And so they stood in the foyer, holding onto each other and gently moving. Effortlessly, they slowed, until they stopped and stood hugging closely. And then they parted – Sasha leading the way to the kitchen.

“I have some rooibos and litchis. Not exactly breakfast of champions, but it’s something right.” She noted the kettle had clicked off and reset it once more to boil.

“Where d’you manage to get litchis from?” Daryl asked as he rounded the large wooden island to open the fridge for them as Sasha made two cups of tea.

“Local farmers market. A vendor…she wasn’t selling them, she was eating some and I asked her for some. We struck up a conversation and came to an agreement,” Sasha smiled as she thought about how her and Funeka were now gym buddies in exchange for a punnet of litchis every fortnight. “They’re only available when they’re in season. I think now is the best time for them, but after this, it’ll be a return to the stuff in cans. Urgh!” She shuddered demonstrably.

She poured the boiling water into the mugs, adding only a teaspoonful of brown sugar into each mug. Daryl had finished rinsing the litchis and left them in the colander, shaking the excess water from them before placing the colander on the wooden table. He turned back to the cabinet and opened a door before finding the large container of cashews and almonds he adored. He placed the two containers on the table, going back to her fridge and instantly spotting the kiwis and grapefruit.

He moved like he belonged there, like he was home. Sasha watched, hopping up to sit cross-legged on the table as Daryl continued getting all the elements of this impromptu breakfast together.

“Next time we’re doing the dirty omlette’s with uhm...chorizo, goat’s cheese and spinach. Fresh juice. And crusty ciabatta.” Daryl smiled thinking up the combination.

“And when it gets cold, cashew and cherry pancakes with lots of maple syrup!” Sasha could almost taste the sweet warmth on her tongue.

“Only if there’s more rooibos!”

“In bed...” her eyes were bright, laughter quirking up her lips, before the reality of the situation came rushing back upon her and she realised all these plans would not be.

Daryl noted the sudden drop in her tone and looked up from slicing up fruit decoratively and saw her looking crestfallen. “In bed. Just the two of us. Watching Casablanca and City of Angels and Middle of Nowhere.” He cupped her cheek, his hand fragrant of fruit.

Her smile was tight lipped but hopeful, her eyes wishing his words true. His curt nod telling her he would make them so. He pressed a kiss to her lips. Slow, gentle, a hello of sorts, a promise.

“Eat up Sass, before they get warm.”

And for a moment, it was almost as if this were their life again: lazy, casual breakfast and easy conversation.

“I love you ya know. I know I never said it much. But I hope you knew...still know.” Daryl popped a segment of kiwi into his mouth before he could say anything more.

“I know.” Sasha smiled around a segment of grapefruit. “It’s still real nice to hear though.” She smiled, nodding as she reached for a piece of kiwi.

Their conversation ambled gently over various topics as they continued eating. A good half hour later, Sasha couldn’t imagine another sip or look at another slice of colourful fruit.

Daryl started clearing the plates away, putting the containers back and rinsing out their tea mugs, all the while Sasha watched him, legs crossed gracefully, hands clasped loosely in her lap.

Mornings like these, _moments like this_ – comfortable and easy - Daryl thought he had almost succeeded, that he had conquered some of the memories that woke her screaming at night, or left her numb inside, as much as she had vanquished his demons and made true on her promises to always be there for him. They had spent the better part of their relationship, pouring into each other, the mutual give and take of meeting each other halfway but going further where the other required it. They had both been so strong and sure in life, until they met each other – randomly, at Rick and Michonne’s – and found a safe spot to rest, in the other.

Then, he had torn that all to pieces when he had told her about having to leave... when he had chosen _saving_ Carol over _building them._

Shaking excess water off his hands, Daryl turned to her with the drying cloth in his hands. “Sass I gotta go. But I’ll see you later,” he leant in, cupping her face in his hand as he lingered momentarily, breathing her in and imparting his presence on her skin in the intimate contact. She in turn closed her eyes and leaned into him, relishing their breath synching and the warmth of their close contact. Finally caressing her check with his lips, he moved to the door.

“Later,” Sasha exhaled as he walked past.

She didn’t hear the door close. She didn’t notice the groceries he took on his way out. She didn’t feel his departure, only mildly noting he was leaving. All she saw were almonds left in a heart-shape on her wooden table and two mugs drip-drying on her counter.

She left the kitchen, all but floating to the hallway before making her way up the stairs. She noted his scarf and jacket hanging on the coat racks just inside the door. That arrested her movement and attention as she stopped and stared...

She inhaled slowly, reaching out to touch the material. _Yep, it was really there._ He had decided to leave a piece of himself, right there. She stretched and padded upstairs to her room. She went to sleep, still feeling like a hero, dreaming of last night.


	2. The Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visitor stops by...

There was a knock at the door. Sasha heard it faintly over the Yuna track that was wafting through the kitchen. She was making salad for lunch, and decided to add some steak to it when she was interrupted.

Sasha appraised the fillet she was about to season – olive oil, salt and paper only, just like Daryl did it – when she instead wiped her hands down on the damp cloth on the countertop and moved to the entrance.

Sasha opened the door and stood back, entirely shocked by her top-step’s visitor.

_Carol._

The older woman looked meek, unsure and downright hesitant to be there.

“Sasha... hi. I know this must be... I uh...” she stammered nervously. Sasha stood watching, her arms staying neutral at her sides, despite her fervent desire to fold them in a barrier across her chest.

She took a deep breath, and stayed standing inside her house.

“I wanted to let you know that I uh... that Daryl really helped me. But I know that was a great sacrifice on his part. And on yours too. I know that you both had to give up your lives in order to save mine. And I appreciate it.”

Sasha stood unmoving. Her face was expressionless but not cold. No thoughts ran through her mind. She merely stood, and listened.

“Daryl told me he bumped into you at the store a while back. He was really happy. Like, humming and drawing like a kid. I should have known. He is always invigorated by you.” Carol stated; a whisper of wistfulness at the end of her words.

Sasha blinked, her breathing masterfully even. She cocked her head to the side for a brief moment, then resumed her statuesque presence within her landing.

“We were never really friends you and I. And I doubt that will change much after,” Carol instantly caught herself as she realised she was about to reveal too much. “What I meant was... I’d like to...”

Sasha cut her off with a hand up and a pointed look. “Finish your previous thought. You doubt that will change much after _what_?”

Carol exhaled slowly. “Daryl and I have spoken, and I’m better now. He wants to come home. So... I was going to say I doubt that we will likely become friends when he returns but...”

Sasha placed her hand over her chest – feeling her racing heart and hitched breathing. Carol didn’t miss her stricken look and brimming tears.

“I’m sure he was going to tell you... or surprise you or... but I wanted to come and speak with you. Your sacrifice saved my life. And I hope you’ll be able to regain that... _your life_.”

Carol stood looking at Sasha, waiting. Sasha looked back, plainly.

“Ok then Carol. Have a good day.” Sasha moved to close the door.

Carol tarried for a moment, then turned and moved away down the stairs.

Sasha closed the door and leant against it, breathing deeply. Her eyes strayed to the jacket and scarf hanging on her coat rack. She smiled, touching the clothes as she passed back to the kitchen.


	3. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At first she couldn’t instantly place what piqued her senses and set her on alert as she walked into her house, but something definitely charged the air. She looked around her foyer and tears sprang to her eyes...

It was a cool and overcast Tuesday when Sasha ran back into her house from an afternoon jog. She had barely broken a sweat, having taken her leisurely park run instead of the more rugged mountain trail she tested herself with.

At first she couldn’t instantly place what piqued her senses and set her on alert as she walked into her house, but something definitely charged the air. She looked around her foyer and tears sprang to her eyes. On the receiving table, there was an electric-blue iPod and an extra set of keys. Sasha looked at the coat rack and noticed that the jacket hanging there now was a blue pin-striped blazer.

The smell scenting the air assailed her next: _mussels and wine and garlic._

Removing her wireless earphones, Sasha moved towards the kitchen, each step tentative yet hopeful.

And there Daryl stood: sleeves rolled up, large pot on the stove, Bon Iver wafting from the Bose speakers in the kitchen as he made his summertime favourite: white wine mussels.

“Oh good. You’re back! These will be ready in just a bit. The French bread is in the oven so you can help me get that out in just a minute.

How was your run?” He canted his head, inviting her over to him.

_Sasha was euphoric_ – not sure if it was only the endorphins from the run or Daryl being Daryl in their kitchen – as she floated over to him.

“The run was good. Didn’t even,” Daryl kissed her cheek as she replied, “break a sweat.”

“The park run then, not that mountain-bike route?” He put on oven mitts as he shook the pot, mixing the contents therein around once more.

“Yeah,” Sasha smiled at his remembering such a thing. “What can I do to help?”

“Wanna freshen up then set the table for me?” Daryl asked, looking her keenly in the eye.

“Sure.”

Sasha made her way upstairs and wiped herself down, changing out of her running gear and slipping on a loose shirt and yoga pants. She returned downstairs to find Daryl uncorking a bottle of wine. He set it on the table and lit the candles on either side of the glass vase with the blue, pink and yellow roses on central display.

“Looks pretty.” Sasha walked past Daryl, letting their fingers interlink briefly as she moved to get plates. “Which plates did you have in mind? I was thinking of...”

“That multicoloured one from Toledo. And maybe those two...”

“Andover blue and green plates. Great idea! Then again... great minds.” Sasha brought the plates down, set them at the table with serviettes.

Daryl poured the mussels into the large sharing plate, whilst Sasha placed the warmed baguettes on a wooden chopping board and set that beside the mussels. Daryl moved one placemat from opposite the other, scooting it closer so the two mats sat beside one another around the corner of the table. Sasha reached for two white wine glasses and placed them at the table.

She stood back and admired the setting. A warm glow emanated from the candles, even before Daryl switched off the overhead kitchen lights and started playing the Album Leaf playlist. The roses lent the table vivid bursts of colour and the food smelt delicious.

“Sit Sash.” Daryl pulled out her chair, scooting her back in towards the table.

He sank into the chair beside her, yet again looking at her longingly. “Tuck in,” he smiled, squeezing her hand briefly before reaching for some mussels.

They ate amidst easy conversation that lapsed at times into pleasant, hunger-satisfied silences. When the candles had burned down considerably and there were more shells piled high on side-plates than there were mussels on the sharing plate, Daryl and Sasha leant back in their chairs, content and happy.

“I’m gonna wash the day off me.” Daryl rose, stretching lazily. “Let the candles burn down. Come with me.” He stretched out a hand to her, helping her up and drawing her to him as he slowly started walking towards the stairs.

xoOox

The water was refreshingly hot and the smell of sandalwood and white roses permeated the air as intense, instrumentals wafted through from the bedroom. Daryl has asked Sasha to wash his hair in that way he liked. It seemed a selfish request, but he remembered how intimate it was: for him to share his vulnerable past with her while actively seeking her nurturing. He could not have given her a more demonstrative invitation to resume their life together.

“Uhmmm,” he purred as Sasha gave him a slow finger-tip head-massage before rinsing out the soap.

“I’ll use a little conditioner.” She whispered back, wiping soap suds from around his face before they trickled into his eyes.

“Ok.” He barely replied, his eyes closed and head bent to her shoulder indicating his levels of supreme relaxation and trust in her.

Sasha squirted conditioner into her hands and gently worked it into Daryl’s hair. She was deliberate and methodical; ensuring to deeply condition his hair whilst maintaining the calm state she had placed him in.

“That good?” She whispered, feeling his arms wrap around her and draw her to him.

“Yeah Sash. It’s perfect.” He raised his face to the cascading water as she ran her fingers through his washed and conditioned hair, untangling any errant knots. She liked the way his head followed her touch, seemingly yearning for more contact the moment her fingers moved from his nape to his crown and down around his ears.

“Let’s go to bed Sash.” He opened his eyes, kissed her forehead and buried his fingers in her wet hair. “Please.”

xoOox

Daryl lay in bed, Sasha curled up deliciously beside him, with his eyes closed, listening to her breathing. It was even, but a little fast. _Something was on her mind. _

“I’m back Sasha. And I ain’t never gonna leave you again, as long as you want me with you.” His words cut through the cool darkness between them at barely a whisper.

Sasha didn’t respond. He hadn’t expected her to. But he appreciated when she reached for his face, kissed him squarely on the lips – closed mouth and lingering – before she resumed her gentle sprawl across him. Her breathing slowed and grew deeper.

“Goodnight Sasha,” Daryl kissed her forehead. He could still smell the sweet-pea and jasmine of her hair despite her silk headwrap.

“Night Daryl.”

‘Tomorrow, I’m making dirty omlette’s. Just like we planned.’ He smiled to himself at the thought.


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *please note the rating change*

His tongue around her aerola before he slipped her nipple into his mouth, had her inhaling sharply.

He had been home for just over three weeks. He had touched her occasionally, small touches here and there. But he had waited – painfully and in high anticipation – for when she would be ready and comfortable to have him _touch her_. She would have to initiate that…resume that boundary-less physical intimacy.

Straddling his lap, moving by degrees as he filled her, Sasha was already seeing stars. His presence enveloped everything about her: from his hands on her hips, keeping time with her achingly slow ride in his lap; his lips roving across her chest and neck; his scent mingling sweetly with the sweat he was raising on her hot skin; her pleasure increasing with his moans, each whimper and sigh throbbing her pussy.

Sasha had returned home moments before Daryl walked in from another work day. There was nothing extraordinary about this Tuesday: the stargazer lilies she had bought still sat on the dining room table; his trench coat still hung on the hook by the door; the bed was still hastily made up from when Daryl left that morning after Sasha was called out to a mid-morning emergency.

There was nothing particular about Daryl’s entry back into their home, nothing unique about the kiss he placed on her cheek or the lingering hug he wrapped her up in.

But all in a moment, from his hair brushing the side of her face, perhaps the soft sigh he exhaled by her ear or the way his fingers grasped her flesh and pressed her close to him that made her realise her happiness was returned to her. He wasn’t going anywhere, and even if he was…even if she was… they had this moment and she had the power to fill it with everything or waste it with inaction.

She had turned his face towards her, nodded once before she smiled shyly and kissed him decidedly on the lips. She enjoyed standing in the foyer, making out with her love. She enjoyed his expert lips melding to hers, tempting and teasing them to part so his cool tongue could explore her mouth. She hadn’t expected to moan when his tongue slid over hers. She was likewise surprised by Daryl lifting her up, her legs wrapping automatically around his slim hips, before he carried her upstairs, not missing a step or a second of their kiss.

He navigated the hallway with one hand against the wall whilst the other cradled Sasha’s perfect behind, lending her additional support as he carried her. He deposited her on the bed only to let her watch him strip. He dropped his jacket from his shoulders, kicked his shoes off and toed off his socks before kicking them under the bed. He smiled at her as he unbuttoned his dark blue shirt, snatches of skin being revealed with each button undone. He hastily unclasped his belt and dropped that unceremoniously beside him. When he unzipped his pants, he searched her face to make sure she was still comfortable with him to proceed. Sasha bit her lip and nodded, her eyes straying back to his stilled-hands at his pants. His pants were discarded on the same pile as the rest of his clothing. Stepping from the bundle, he walked to the edge of the bed and crawled atop her. _He still didn’t wear boxers sometimes._

She was still fully clothed, hot and eager for him. He lay atop her, resuming their slow make-out. His hardness pressed up against her clothed thigh was a tease, one she meant to enjoy immediately.

His hands kneaded her breasts as he continued undulating hard against her, his desire apparent. Her sighs and moans were lost in his kisses. Her legs fell open of their own accord as Daryl re-settled comfortably between them. His hand slipped between their bodies, teasing between her thighs over her jeans.

He trailed down her body, raising her shirt in snatches to kiss her skin. Her hands found his hair, in turns stroking and pulling it as passion took her. He reached the top of her jeans and ceased all other ministrations to slowly unbutton her jeans whilst holding her gaze: her wanton wonder painted across her face. He licked his lips, smiling as he bent down over her body. Her underwear exposed to him, he nuzzled her intimately, unconsciously emitting a low growl. His fingers dug into the soft skin of her waist, insinuating themselves under the band of her panties and pulling down slowly. Sasha raised her hips, unintentionally aiding his removal of her clothing, whilst trying to get closer to his warm mouth.

“Daryl,” she purred.

He looked up at her – her eyes glossed over in raw want – and lost a fraction of control. Kneeling between her legs, he placed his hands over her curvy butt and tapped her once. Sasha raised her hips, a laughing smile breaking out across her face. Daryl shimmied her jeans down further and stepped aside, allowing Sasha a moment to wiggle them off her feet. Returning to his position between her knees, Daryl ran one hand up over her thigh and gripped her hip possessively, whilst his other rested on her knee. He pulled her closer to him as he splayed her legs further open for his attention and eating. He reined his passion in, focussing on her pleasure first. He kissed her legs softly, mere whispers of his lips over her skin as he moved from her knees, over her thighs and back to her inner thighs. Sasha moaned on an inhale, trying to squeeze her thighs closed as thrills of electricity raced through her. Daryl firmly held her legs open as he continued to kiss higher up her legs, but refusing to place his lips on _hers_. He blew a warm breath over her pussy and smiled to see her slickening folds pulse in anticipation. His hand stopped gripping her hip and glided up her skin to grab her breast. He squeezed her breast at the same time that he gently bit her thigh, before rubbing her nipple with the pad of his thumb as he blew another warm breath over her pussy once more.

“Daryl!” Sasha grabbed onto his hand over her breast, her pull on his hair now turning insistent.

Daryl smirked up at her, before nodding his head and descending on her. He licked her once over from back to front, before releasing her breast to use two hands to manoeuvre around her.

Placing gentle butterfly kisses on her vulva, he got re-acquainted with her scent and softness. She smelled lightly floral but as her arousal started to coat her labia in a fine sheen, that arousing musk perfumed the air. Spreading her labia apart, he ran his tongue over her inner lips slowly, tickling the hood of her clit with the tip of his tongue before plunging his tongue into her vagina, planting his lips against her inner lips and kissing deeply, his tongue mimicking the second round of what he had planned.

Sasha cried out in pleasure, arching her back off the bed. Daryl loved her manifest pleasure. Taking a steadying breath, he removed his tongue from within her to focus solely on her precious little clit. From her constant surging towards his mouth, she was already sensitive and close to climax. She was strumming her nipple and she rode Daryl’s face.

He sucked her clit into his mouth, manipulating the hood with his tongue, bathing her clit in alternate swipes of his velvety tongue and warm puffs of air.

“DDDDDDddddddddd! Yyyyyeeeee...” Sasha exhaled, hips clear off the bed trying to draw closer to the sensation Daryl was inspiring.

He kept up his intense play on her until her pelvic contractions’ crescendo sent Sasha spiralling into a tender, prolonged orgasm that sprang tears to her eyes, even as she blissfully kept mumbling “Hmm, yess, ooohhh Daryl!”

Sasha weakly pushed his head from between her legs, but before he could misread her intentions, she brought his slick-lips to hers and kissed him deeply, holding his eyes as she whispered, “That was… But I want you inside me. Now.” She kissed him once more, as she effortlessly rolled them until she lay atop him, before sitting up to straddle him.

With a sultry smile on her face, gyrating gently over his hips, she slowly stripped her t-shirt off. Daryl’s hands wandered from her hips, over her ass, up her back, sliding over her breasts as they were exposed to him and back down to her waist where he gently held her. He would have rested his hands there all night if that was all she wanted – to simply feel him against her.

Sasha placed his hands over her breasts and leant over to kiss him, as she gently raised her hips, scooted back to his delicious erection that had been poking at her butt, before she slid gently down until she was nestled around him, from root to tip. Her eyes closed for a moment as she adjusted to the size of him. Opening her eyes slowly, exhaling languidly, she held his hands over her breasts and nodded with him once as he gazed up at her, her bottom lip caught in sweet delight between her teeth.

“I’m all yours Sasha. All yours.” Daryl all but whispered, her breasts being squeezed deliciously in his hands.

Sasha smiled as she closed her eyes for a moment, contracting her vaginal walls around his thick penis for a moment, before opening her eyes to look at him – explicit desire written across her face. _And then she started to move._


End file.
